Savor The Flavor

If you are a normal unpretentious human person, there’s a chance you see a four pack of coffee for $24 and think, okay, cool. I’ll buy that and either brew it right away or stash it in the freezer for a rainy day when I run out of grounds and don’t feel like going to the store.

Great. We don’t have much to say to you because, again, you are a normal, reasonable person who will either see the value here or not.

Who we’d like to address directly today are the coffee snobs out there. Look, we know what you’re thinking. You’re seeing something like “chocolate cherry” coffee and thinking, Pshaw! The only fruit and/or chocolate I want are the subtle notes that dance upon my palate after I’ve brewed a Chemex of single-origin natural process Guatemala!

But be warned, nerds. Flavored coffee is coming for you.

Mark my words, in no less than five years, the hot thing in all the hipster coffee shops in LA will be (ironically at first, and then with sincere delight) coffee made to taste like blueberry muffins.

What am I basing this theory on? It’s easy: the craft beer world.

Tired of the flavorless swill, craft brewers turned to the IPA. And when the IPA went mainstream, what did they do? They started an arms race. How many IBUs could they pack into a single bottle? How much skunky-ass bitterness could they load into a glass to impress the beardos in their bowling shirts? And when even that became the norm, the brewers turned to churning of mega-stouts with double digit ABVs and sour “beer” that packed more pucker-power than apple cider vinegar.

But over time, things changed. The IPAs got hazier and smoother and now taste like orange juice. The stouts, infused with chocolate and coconut, are basically boozy milkshakes. And the sours became smoothie sours and pastry sours–in other words, not sour at all; in fact, very sweet–so that you’re basically paying $24 for a 4-pack of artisanal Zima.

If you think this can’t happen to your community, coffee snobs, you’re being naive.

So buy an assorted 4-pack of this coffee from Harry & David, and adjust your palate. That way, in a few years, when the barista with a sleeve tattoo and an orange beanie tells you the drink of the day is a ‘cinna-maple-apple pour over,’ you can smile and say, “Oh that sounds great!”